


"It is in France"

by Njaybird



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18668107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Njaybird/pseuds/Njaybird
Summary: A section of the bundling scene, from Matthew's POV.





	"It is in France"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic! I love the books but haven't watched the series yet, so this is based entirely on the scene from the book. Hope you like :)

He can’t wait any longer, can’t resist the urge to touch and to taste. He lets his hand trace up the inside of her thigh, keeping eye contact in case she changes her mind. _Please, God, don’t change your mind_. But the look in her eyes is pure fire.

Her pulse spikes; her blood sings. He gently, slowly extends one cool finger along her folds. She’s so warm, so wet, so ready for him, and her gasp of his name nearly sends him over the edge.

“I don’t think that’s bundling,” she breathes, as he slips two fingers inside and finds her clit with his thumb.

He smiles. “It is in France.”

Nearly 1500 years of experience gives him a slight advantage over other men when it comes to knowing how to please a woman. Diana’s retort dissolves into a moan as her hips buck toward his hand. She weaves her fingers into his hair and pulls him into a deep kiss. _Dieu,_ he could kiss her for eternity. He nips gently at her lip before he travels from mouth to neck to breast. He takes one hard nipple into his mouth as his fingers pick up their pace. She’s practically screaming now, turning her head to muffle the sound in a pillow, hands still twined in his hair and a litany of “don’t stop, don’t stop” tumbling from her lips.

She needn’t restrain herself, he thinks with some satisfaction. Marthe and Ysabeau will hear anyway.

He smells her climax coming before he can feel it, a sweet and intoxicating scent that is purely her. A moment later, she’s trembling from head to foot, walls pulsing around his hand, his name echoing in the air. He slows his pace, stroking her gently until the trembling subsides. Seeing her glistening and exhausted before him, he can’t resist sliding his fingers into his mouth and tasting her for the first time. His eyes close with pleasure: she is exquisite, all honey and sunlight. _She will be the death of me_.

Sated for the moment, he repositions himself beside her, holds her close, and buries his nose in her hair. She curls against his body, heart rate still elevated, aftershocks still reverberating. With a mischievous smile, he asks, “What does the historian think of bundling now?”


End file.
